“Who I ‘am” .

It’s not my will to travel down this road but I ‘am,

Where the wind blows and wherever it stops, I ‘am.

Ploughing the cotton fields and planting seeds, come rain or sunshine,

My hands shackled and feet confined, a slave to the system - I’ am.

Wilde’s nightingale searching for crimson roses in winter time,

Another of cupid’s sacrificial lambs to be slaughtered- I’ am.

Dali’s elephants reflecting the image of graceful swans on a lake,

At night a dreamer, at day a flawed man- I know not who I’ am.

One of Sinatra’s timeless records playing “the way you look tonight”,

I may grow older but from the memories made, an immortal - I ‘am.